An Assassin's Reprisal
by nerdsandlairs
Summary: Susan is out from her employment and Teatime managed to land the contract of a lifetime, killing Death and taking over his job. The only thing that can stop Teatime is a woman who reminds him of his teachers, and the only that irritates Susan more than her former employers is a man with a nasty habit of coming back from the dead and a black glass eye. 10 years after The Hogfather.
1. Chapter 1

**The Characters and Disc World belong to the late Sir Pratchett entirely. I only own this brief scene. Set 10 years after the events of The Hogfather.**

The Governess of the Gaiter home, Susan Sto Helit hadn't aged a day in the decade that had passed since saving Hogswatch. Her wishes to be 'normal' were null and void in most arenas, but those who she interacted with on a constant basis seldom noticed the oddities of the Governess. Save for the children of course. Susan continued to be impressed at the intelligence Gawain and Twyla held despite their parent's lack of sense. She was a rather modest woman, or at least tried to hold the appearance of it, but Susan knew well enough that any brains, decency or any other admirable qualities the pair had, it was in thanks to her.

It was the eve before Hogswatch, and while it was the anniversary of Susan saving humanity as everyone knew, she hardly blinked at the memory. So much had occurred since that night, mostly annoyances that came with life, but some admirable things as well, but her time with the Gaiter's was coming to an end. Both children were home in observance of the holiday, but Twyla was in University, and Gawain was preparing to help oversee the family business once he was finished with his education.

She knew it was only a matter of time before the master of the house excused her from her duties, but she imagined it would be by the end of summer, not in the dead of winter.

"Susan, you really have been a treasure," motioned Mr. Gaiter.

"An absolute treasure," chimed his wife, nodding vigorously.

"But it's time for me to go, isn't it?" Susan said cutting to the chase. Where the years hardly touched Susan, it had all but washed away the color and life from the pair. While they've aged in features, the couple remained to be as youthful and dim witted in spirit.

"It's not that we are ungrateful, you have been a godsend to us and the children, but they hardly need us anymore, let alone their keeper," stated Mr. Gaiter. "Soon enough Twyla will be married off with a family of her own, and Gawain shall head the business, letting myself and my wife enjoy our golden years, where we intend to settle down in a climate that is more accommodating of folks our age."

"I see." Susan said who was rather unphased by the end of her employment. "Shall I pack now, or will I be given time to find new work before leaving your company?"

"Well, we were hoping you could leave tonight. We are sending you off with a very reasonable severance package, a Hogswatch bonus and a little extra to see you off. If you can vacate your room before our guests arrive it would be preferable," spoke Mr. Gaiter. He was a master of business, and relieving people from employment was a craft to him by this point in his life.

Susan shifted her gaze to the grandfather clock in the living room. It was a quarter past five and the guests would be arriving by six sharp. Susan held her breath.

"May I say goodbye to the children before I go?" Susan asked. She wanted to demand it, but her temper was already beginning to unhinge itself.

"We feel that it's best if you leave before they come home from their festivities as well. You know how emotional people of their age can get with goodbyes and all," spoke Mrs. Gaiter. "Can't have them crying in front of our guests. What a mess that would be!"

"Yes, I agree," Susan said plainly, bitterness evident in her voice but her former employers never were good at grasping her temperament or nature. "Having their lifelong Governess walk out on the eve of their favorite holiday without so much as a farewell is far less traumatizing."

"Oh good, you do understand!" Exclaimed the mother as she embraced Susan who was as stiff as stiff could be. "We'll send the children your love, so you better pack quickly!"

* * *

It took everything in Susan to not murder the two on the spot, but as much as she dislike her current situation, the idea of the children becoming orphans was less pleasing, and on top of that, she'd also prefer to see her grandfather on better terms.

With the aid of her inherited powers, Susan was able to pack up and leave within three minutes. In actuality it was at least an hour, but Susan had stopped time if only to curse out her former employers without them hearing her. In addition, she also left notes to the children, safely hidden away underneath their pillows. She would hardly say she was a sentimental person, but loved those kids, and adored the people they have become.

She was able to pack away all of her belongings into two suitcases. Standing before the frozen Gaiters again, she set time back into motion, with her packed bags at her feet. Not even a shred of curiosity was found between the two. By A'Tuin, they were daft.

"I was hoping that I could get a letter of recommendation before I left," Susan insisted now.

Finally recognition was brought to Mr. Gaiter's eyes and he produced a sealed envelope. It was thick, and no doubt carried the severance pay along with her other wages.

"It really has been a pleasure having you in our life Susan," stated Mrs. Gaiter, with Mr. Gaiter nodding in agreement. "We could not have asked for a better woman helping raise our darlings."

"Likewise," Susan stated, keeping her annoyance in check, turning her gaze to Mr. Gaiter. "Given your business experience, where might one find temporary lodging on the busiest night of the year?"

* * *

The Auditors of Reality were no strangers to breaking rules, and while they preferred to be quick when it came to business, the feat of bringing Jonathan Teatime back from Death took a great deal of coin, string pulling and navigating loop holes. But ten years to the day, Mr. Teatime was handed his certificate of un-death.

Teatime peered at the paper with his cold blue eye for a long time before looking back to the figures who stood- or more so floated, before him. One minute, he was enjoying the savory and delicate torture that only Hell itself could provide, and the next he sat in a comfy chair in what looked to be an abandoned pub. Glancing at his surroundings he recognized his currently location. He had a mark here once upon a time. It didn't count by the Guild's standards however, on account of too many witnesses. He had yet to learn that public assassinations were in poor taste.

"Do you know who we are?" Asked one of the specters, signaling Teatime back to the present.

"I do not." Teatime admitted in his singsong voice. "Should I know you gentlemen? If you are in fact gentlemen?"

"We are not, and you do not," replied a different specter. Teatime took count now and saw four of them before him. "All you need to know is that we are your employers."

Teatime licked his lips at the sudden talk of business. "I see," his mind was rather shaken with the suddenness of everything. It felt like an eternity had passed and yet no time at all. Time was really just a man-made concept however, what truly interested him, now more than ever, was Death. "What is it that I can do for you?"

"We request that you would eliminate a certain entity," replied the first specter. The three others nodded in unison. "We request, that you would remove Death from this world. Permanently."

Teatime blinked at the request, sitting back into the chair more to take in the proposed hit. Death. He had been so close to ceasing Death, ending the Hogfather, eliminating the Tooth Fairy and hell, potentially dominating the world.

Had it not been for Susan.

His hands gripped the arms of his chair at the thought of her. Understanding human emotions never was his strongest point, but when it came to that woman, he was at a true loss. In Hell, some days, when his keepers were particularly cruel, they would tempt him with her. Have her image delivering the blows, have her voice barking orders- her scent intoxicating his senses. But it was never her. He wanted it to be her some days, if only to play games with her.

Being dead, it gave one plenty of time to day dream, and the things that he imagined doing to Susan would make even the most dedicated Hell worker blush. He imagined the way her pale skin would feel as he carved it with a knife, question the way that she would scream, if she was capable. What would her voice sound like, would she be shrill, or remain to have that raucous tendency.

He had to admit, he spent far too much time dreaming about the woman who bested him, not once, but twice in a single night.

"I appreciate the offer gentlemen, but I'm afraid that this task is quite impossible," Teatime said rising to his feet. "I would know, I have tried."

"We know," came a third specter. "We watched your performance ten years ago."

"No one has ever been closer," spoke the second, and again they all nodded, passing along comments of praise. If it were possible, Teatime would say he was flattered, but the man remained indifferent.

"I have to disagree gentlemen," Teatime spoke, breaking up the conversation his potential clients were having. "I could have been so much closer, but a mortal can only accomplish so much."

"Mr. Teatime, who said you were a mortal now?" The fourth specter asked, earning Teatime's gaze. "When we signed your certificate, we gave you what some might call, perks."

"Who would call them perks?" Teatime asked.

"We would call them perks," responded the first specter.

"Oh." Teatime looked over the certificate of un-death with scrutiny now. In fine print he could make out the words of "slightly immortal". "What does it mean that I am slightly, immortal."

"It means just that Mr. Teatime, you are impervious to death, but only slightly, just as the Hogfather, Death and other absurd individuals that roam this world are."

Teatime frowned at the answer, if it could be called that at all. "Well, what if I were to refuse this contract?"

"That, Mr. Teatime, would result in your termination," spoke the second specter. Teatime tilted his head ajar and nodded in acknowledgement. He could have that, and if these silky looking clients of his were able to retrieve him from Hell, they could just as easily return him to it, and Jonathan had no intention on returning to that awful place. He learned a great deal about the craft of death down there, but never could act on the teachings he received.

"And what may I ask, is my pay?" Teatime asked, lifting his gaze but not his head to the four things before him.

"Your pay, is your life, Mr. Teatime," touted the first specter. Teatime sighed at this response.

" _NIL MORTIFI, SINE LVCRE,"_ whispered Teatime.

"What was that?" Asked one of the specters.

"No killing without pay," replied another. "It's the motto of an assassin." They all began to nod and murmur amongst themselves by this point before looking back to what they previously regarded as property.

"Will you settle on salary? One thousand a week?" the second specter asked. The rate puzzled Teatime, but before he could inquire the auditors began to explain. "When Death is eliminated, someone will still be required to see off the souls of the deceased."

"Yes, Death is required on this world, but Death can be replaced."

Teatime found this new information to be both intriguing and frustrating. His employers were muddying his favorite pastime into a true labor. Death was his passion and livelyhood, but to be the one who had to clean up after other assassins, criminals and anything else that stopped life short? He had no intention on becoming a janitor of passed souls. But, he could always just neglect his duties if he didn't feel like doing them.

"Well gentlemen, where do I sign?"

* * *

 **Happy Hogswatch everyone. Feel free to comment and correct any mistakes I have made.**


	2. Chapter 2

Susan knew that she would be greeted with cold dead arms should she return home to her grandfather's house, but Susan insisted on trying to lead a normal life, no matter how impossible that seemed for her.

Without setting her bags down she unlocked the door to the room she rented for the holiday in the least reputable tavern this side of Ankh. That wasn't a concern of hers in the least. It was cheap, it had a bed with sheets and offered Pangea breakfast from dawn until noon. It would hold her over until she secured a new job, preferably a Governess again, but with the economy the way that it was, Susan would settle for whatever kept a roof over her head, and managed to keep her out of sight from those who were more like her.

Shutting the door behind her, Susan set her bags down and began to inspect her temporary lodging quarters. The room reeked of ale, recreational smoke and the distinct scent of shame, which was something that she could identify with at the time being. She moved to the bed, pulling back the covers to find a dead rat. Picking it up by the tail, she noted that Death of Rats had indeed reaped its soul and she disposed of the corpse in the trash bin and turned back to face the bed.

She took in the sight of the bed and pinched the bridge of her nose in disgust. She should have known this day would come. She should have been more prepared, but more so, she should have been the one to leave. If things had gone her way, she would have left without a word once Gawain was finished with his finals in his apprenticeship program.

But instead she had the rug pulled out from underneath her on her least favorite holiday.

Hogswatch- if it wasn't for her, there wouldn't be one, and then the Gaiter's would have nothing to celebrate. "Now you're just being petty," called her conscience and Susan released her nose and made her way into bed, still clothed in corset and all. Like most of the other more 'powerful' beings of the world she lived in, sleep wasn't a requirement every night, but Susan had nothing better to do than to practice that eternal rest.

"Hogswatch," she muttered. Ten years ago, this night, she discovered the meaning of several things in this world, but she had come to accept that there was indeed a Hogfather. A tooth fairy who was once THE Bogey Man, and that there were those out there who still knew of old. Dark magic. She rolled over onto her side and closed her eyes. She believed it all, so why was it so hard to convince herself she could land a new job at the drop of a hat?

"For Hogswatch," Susan started with a yawn. "I want a new job, and a new life." She mumbled closing her eyes to a forced nap.

* * *

Teatime stood before the house that he died in a decade ago. Teatime wasn't one to feel awkward, no, he made others embrace such sensations, but after spending time in Hell, showing up to the scene of his Death where he nearly killed Death but was instead killed by Death's granddaughter, well, the whole thing was rather surreal.

From the sound of things, Teatime concluded that there was a party going on inside, and if he was lucky, SHE would be in there as well. He did not have that lovely sword, but he did have the element of surprise on his side, but sneaking up on his victims usually lost its appeal after the first dozen kills. The pleading and groveling was beneath Susan however. Even when her back was against the wall, that woman held her own.

Without waiting another minute more in the cold evening air, Teatime approached the door, rapping his knuckles against the door twice, the man suddenly grew giddy. The horrors of Hell began to melt away as he imagined the shock that Susan was sure to present at his unexpected arrival. She would turn a shade paler if possible, those narrow and cunning eyes would widen, those soft pink flushed lips would part in the most delicate manner.

Oh yes, Teatime spent a great deal of time waiting for this moment, he just never believed he would actually get to experience it.

But now Teatime spent a great deal of time waiting outside of the house. Impatiently, he proceeded to knock again, more forceful this time around. How irritating of Susan to keep him waiting! He was prepared to knock again but the door swung open, presenting a familiar face, but not the one he was looking for.

He did not know her name, but he recalled that this was one of the children from the Hogswatch. She was much older now, but of course a good deal of time had passed in his absence. "You're not Susan," Teatime said in an irritable tone, making the young woman return a displeased expression.

"Nor are you," she hissed back ready to slam the door when another woman, one much older came up to the door.

"Darling, who is it- "came the Mistress of the house and she gasped at the sight of Mr. Teatime, but quickly composed herself. "Oh, beg my pardon Sir, are you here to sing us a carol?"

Teatime gritted his teeth. Of all the insufferable things, why was his day dream not playing out the way he saw it in his head? He faked a smile and clasped his hands behind his back, suppressing an anxious giggle.

"No, no, no madam." He whispered eyeing the young woman in particular as she kept her gaze on him. "I was just in search of Susan, is the Governess home this holiday?"

Mrs. Gaiter brought her hands over her chest, and the expression he dreamed of Susan doing where imitated by the aging hag before him. "Oh no, we relieved her of her duties today." The woman stated. The statement made Teatime's jaw go slack.

"You, sent her… away?" Teatime asked in confusion.

"Yes, THEY did- "said a rather perturbed Twyla. Her mother tsked the response and waved her daughter off to rejoin the party, but the young woman stayed put.

"Yes, we felt that it was time to let Susan go," said a justified Mrs. Gaiter. "Our children aren't children anymore after all- Even if Twyla does believe in Bogeymen to this day!"

"They are real mother, I don't know how to express that to you any clearer than I already have."

Mrs. Gaiter shook her head with a smitten laugh. "What an imagination she has," the Mistress stated looking back to the man at her doorstep who would have been more than pleased to gut her like a fish, but he continued to stand perfectly still, looking more like a porcelain doll over a certified assassin. "I'm sorry, I didn't get your name," whispered the Mistress.

"That's because I didn't give it, Madam." Teatime all but growled in annoyance. "How rude of me. My name is Teh-ah-tim-eh. What's yours?"

"You may call me Mrs. Gaiter. Please, come in!" said the Mistress, clearing the doorway. "I wasn't aware that Susan was courting anyone," she said as Teatime entered their home, both he and Twyla's heads spun at the comment.

"Are you kidding?" Twyla started keeping the door open wanting the strange yet familiar man to leave. "This creep- "

"Is indeed involved with, Miss Susan," finished Teatime glaring at Twyla before casting his gaze to the Mistress, producing an effective pout. "Today marks our tenth anniversary, a very important date indeed, and I intended on proposing something to her tonight. Something that would change her life forever… "

Mrs. Gaiter brought her hands to her chest and gasped. The crime that she and her husband had committed to the young lovers. "Oh no, I apologize that you came out all this way to see her, oh if only I had known!"

"It was meant to be a surprise," Teatime stated folding his arms observing the home with the cold off-white eye that he had, his black glass eye "And I would prefer it to remain a surprise. Do you know where Susan is currently?"

"I don't," confessed Mrs. Gaiter, nearly sealing her fate to be Teatime's first kill in this drought of his, but she held up her hand. "However, my husband might. Let me fetch him."

* * *

Mr. Gaiter produced a list of taverns and Inns he had recommended to Susan. Half of them on the list he had confirmed kills in, so it was an added bonus in Teatime's favor.

"We really are sorry about this. It was in poor judgment to send off Susan today," announced Mr. Gaiter who eyed the peculiar man before him.

He had always been curious about Susan's life outside of her work, especially when it came to any courtships she may or may not have had. From what little he knew about Susan, the man clad in black seemed like a perfect match for his former Governess. Awkward, yet somewhat personable, where Susan was strict, witty but more reserved. A very good fit, but Susan might have been able to do better in his mind. Someone who had two eyes.

"It's alright, really Mr. Gaiter- " Teatime stated as he tucked away the list of places Susan might be residing in. "It may be for the best, you know how private Miss Susan can be."

Mr. Gaiter scoffed at that. "Yes, quite!" He shared a good laugh with the supposed fiancé' to be and his wife on the matter of Susan Sto Hilt, but the Gaiter children knew well enough that Susan held no interest in this man, at least not romantically.

"I've seen him before, I just don't know where…" Twyla whispered to her younger brother who peered over in shock.

"You don't remember?" Gawain asked in a hushed whisper before nodding to the trio who were all exchanging pleasantries. "That's one of the Bogeys who was here on Hogswatch years ago!"

It all hit Twyla like a brick house. That was right, there was the gaunt one who was eating a biscuit, then there was him, with that sword with the blue glue, asking them if he should get rid of the other one. Susan got rid of both of them, somehow. Susan always got rid of the Bogeys, no matter how scary or dull they were, but no Bogey ever came back twice.

No, this wasn't a bogey. This was worse. Much worse.

Watching the blond curly hair man leave their home, Twyla felt fear briefly, but it soon turned to anger.

"We should go after him," Twyla whispered to Gawain.

"Right, I'll grab the poker."


End file.
